


Where the Creek Grows Shallow

by willowcrowned



Series: The Peaceable Kingdom [4]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Communication, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sort Of, ignoring dreams, ignoring trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcrowned/pseuds/willowcrowned
Summary: Ten years after Jacob, Bella, and Edward get together they're living in Seattle happily, but Jacob slowly finds himself less and less content. All remains fine until a call from Charlie interrupts the unstable peace.In which conversations are had, dreams are ignored, and everyone has a really hard time communicating.
Relationships: Jacob Black/Bella Swan, Jacob Black/Edward Cullen, Jacob Black/Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Series: The Peaceable Kingdom [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567810
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've declined to mark this work as having Graphic Depictions of Violence, because I believe that what I've written doesn't fall under that category. You should, however, be warned that there is some description of blood and a serious injury at the beginning of this chapter.

Jacob pads through the woods, heading towards the smell of water. The pine needles are quiet beneath his paws and the air is still and cool. He emerges on to a mossy bank, right above the creek, and without a thought splashes through it, on to the other side of the treaty line. 

There’s something he’s looking for, he knows it. Slowly, slowly, the scent of water fades until Jacob is lost in a sea of green. He keeps going. 

In the distance, he smells blood, and he bounds towards it. Whatever drew him out into the woods is there, he knows it. It’s like there’s a cord wrapped around his heart that’s tugging him towards the source of the bleeding. 

He finds his way out of the sea of green again, and there, where the creek grows wide and shallow, is a body. Little rivulets of sparkling water surround it, creating little eddies and currents as they weave around its fingers. The pebbles on which it lies are stained with blood, smeared with the fresh tang of iron. Its stomach is torn open, a naked gash of a wound that means nothing but death for its bearer. But somehow its chest shudders, drawing in one rasping breath after another. The body’s face is turned away from him, and Jacob trots towards it, less anxious than curious. The water splashes around his paws, the wind ruffling his fur. He steps around it carefully until he can see the face. 

It’s his. 

He blinks, and he’s no longer a wolf. He’s lying on the bank now, and he can feel where his stomach has been ripped open. He sees a flash through the trees, like diamonds, then another. Two of them, and they’re circling. He can’t move his head, can’t even lift a finger as the two shapes come closer and closer. 

And then they’re standing there, two beautiful angels in the form of humans. They’re shining under the sunlight and their red eyes glow in their faces. Edward’s hair shines like flame; Bella is lit by a halo of sunlight. They look at him, a dark spot in the water, almost bored in their victory. He can’t run now. He can’t fight. Bella pulls Edward in for a kiss and Jacob watches as their bloody mouths meet. He can do nothing but let out one final shuddering breath. Finally, the two break apart and look at him like a beetle one is about to squish. 

The last thing he sees is their beautiful pale faces as they rip out his throat. 

Jacob wakes up in a sweat, breathing hard. Edward, who had been reading next to him is startled by the sudden motion as he bolts up. Bella turns over from where she’s been dozing and her eyes blink open. As she takes in Jacob’s appearance— cool forehead, pale cheeks, bare chest covered in sweat— a wrinkle forms between her brows as it always does when she’s upset. 

“Jacob?’ Edward reaches out with a tentative hand to touch Jacob’s arm. 

Jacob jumps at the cool touch, glassy eyes finally coming in to focus. 

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, voice raspy. 

Edward removes his hand. 

“Jake?” Bella reaches up to caress his hair. 

He stares straight ahead. “I’ll be fine.” 

“But you’re not right now.” 

There’s not much he can say to that, so he merely focuses on breathing. 

“I’m so sorry,” Edward says, “If I had known you were having a nightmare, I would have woken you. But,” his brow furrows in confusion, “your heartbeat was steady until you woke up a minute ago.” 

“I wasn’t scared until a minute ago,” Jacob says. And it’s true. In some twisted way, he wasn’t scared until he woke up. The trees, the stream, the bloodstained faces—all of those seemed right. It was the waking up, the realizing that the two beautiful, pale, freezing bodies were on either side of him, that felt wrong. 

Bella gets up and vanishes out of Jake’s line of sight. A few seconds later, she’s back with a warm cloth. Jacob lets her wipe the sweat from his skin. The gentle repetitive movements and warm touch soothe him. By the time she’s finished, his heartbeat is back to slow and steady rhythm. Edward watches the entire thing with eyes full of concern and confusion. 

“May I ask what the dream was about?” Edward asks, finally, amber eyes curiously bright in the dark room. 

“Uh.” Jacob clears his throat. “The woods back in Forks.” 

Bella meets Edward’s eyes. They both know he’s keeping something from them. 

“Anything else?” Bella prods, wiping the last of the sweat from the small of his back. She hands the cloth to Edward, who tosses it into the hamper. 

Jacob is silent. “I was a wolf until the end.” He doesn’t meet their eyes. 

“I used to get nightmares about the woods too.” Bella looks guiltily at Edward. “It was during, y’know, those months.” 

Edward smiles at her sadly. He’ll never be sorry enough. 

Bella reaches over to hold Edward’s hand, to reassure him that she’s there. He almost seems surprised by the contact, but his shoulders relax as he looks down at where their flesh meets. The two are silent for a moment, looking in to each other’s eyes as if there’s nothing else in the universe. 

For the first time, Jacob looks up. Neither Edward nor Bella look at him. 

The gaze ends after a minute and Bella says, “I never wanted to talk about them either.” She reaches up and puts one white hand on Jacob’s dark shoulder. “We’ll be here.” 

Jacob forces a smile. “Thanks,” he says, checking the time. 3am. “I’ll try and go back to sleep. Would you..?” 

Edward nods and shifts so that his long, pale, leg is pressed against Jake. Bella curls herself around him as well and Jake sighs comfortably, the burning heat across his body dissipating against their freezing flesh. 

“You look incredible,” Bella says, eyes flicking across Jake’s form lasciviously. 

Jake rolls his eyes. He’s just wearing black jeans and a leather jacket. Granted, they’re rather more tailored than he’s used to, but still. You would think Bella and Edward were still teenagers for the way they were looking to jump him (which, he realizes, they kind of are). 

“I agree,” Edward says, breath cool against Jacob’s next. Jake nearly jumps. He’ll never get used to people appearing behind him. 

“Didn’t we have a party to go to?” Jacob says. 

“To hell with the party,” Edward replies, beginning to mouth at Jake’s neck. 

“Let’s not—oh.” Edward nips at a specific spot on Jake’s neck and he melts. 

“Cheater,” Jake mutters, relaxing back in to Edward’s embrace. 

“All’s fair in love and war.” Edward’s hands skim under his jacket to the t-shirt beneath. 

“Alright,” Bella says. “I’m putting a stop to this. We can’t show up looking like we’ve just had sex.” 

“Well we don’t have to look like it.” Edward gives Bella his best puppy dog eyes. 

She snorts. She’s immune. “Come on, I want you guys to meet my advisor.” 

Edward pulls away, still pouting. “Fine.” 

Jake breathes a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d shown up to a party with a neck covered in Edward’s bite marks, but it’s still super embarrassing., and it’s not like he can resist— or wants to— as soon as Edward’s mouth is on him. 

Bella’s advisor’s house is in the suburbs of Seattle, a well-lit, rather nice home with a small lawn. There are already people milling about inside, sipping wine and drifting from one room to another. 

When Bella knocks, a woman comes to the door. Her brown hair has streaks of silver running through it and is pulled back in to a tight bun. Around her neck is a bright red chunky necklace. 

“Bella! Please come in.” Her smile is genuine enough, but Jake waits for the moment of confusion that will happen when she sees both him and Edward. She hides it better than some, but Jake sees the moment it happens. There’s a telltale blink of confusion, then a slightly less genuine smile. Jake shifts uncomfortably. 

“Sylvia, this is Edward, and this is Jacob,” Bella introduces as they step in to the house. 

Edward smiles his charming smile and shakes her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Bella has said a lot about you.” 

Silvia melts at his honeyed tone (as most people do), and she brightens up. 

Jacob offers her the bouquet of flowers that he’s holding. “We brought these.” Internally, Jake cringes. 

“Ah,” Sylvia says. “Let me put those in a vase. Can I get you a drink?” 

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Bella says. 

“Nor me,” Edward adds. “Jacob?” 

“What do you have?” 

“Oh! Well, Andra brought a lovely Sancerre, and we’ve just opened a Bourdeaux. Which would you prefer?” 

Jake assumes his best poker face and tries to seem like he knows what she just said. For once, he wishes Edward would read his thoughts and help him out. Luckily, Bella seems to notice his discomfort. 

“Ooh,” she says. “Actually, if you have a Sancerre, then I’ll have a glass.” 

“Me too,” Jake says, silently sending her a thank you. 

“Let me help you put those in some water,” Edward says, following Sylvia to the kitchen. 

“I should have looked up wines online,” Jake mutters to Bella, once Sylvia is out of   
earshot. 

Bella snorts, trying to hide her smile. “Sorry if you don’t like it. I wasn’t a wine person before I, y’know, so I have no idea what I just asked for.” 

Edward comes back, holding two glasses of white wine. “I’m told it’s rather dry, with unique notes of acidity.” 

Jake takes the glass from Edward and tentatively tastes it. He shrugs. “It tastes like wine.” 

Bella grins. “This is why I like you. Now let’s go traumatize you both with grad students.” 

Bella takes them both around the room, introducing them to her friends and acquaintances. Edward, of course, charms nearly everyone, and Jake just tries his best to seem like he’s fine. Once Bella has finished making her rounds, Edward joins a group effortlessly and Bella finds herself engaged in conversation with a friend. Jake is left standing awkwardly in the corner of the room, feeling like a twelve-year-old at a school dance. 

Jake drains the last of the wine from his glass and sets it down. 

“Can I get you some more?” Sylvia stands in the doorway next to him. 

“Oh, uh, no thank you.” 

She smiles. “Of course.” 

“Should I... put this somewhere?” Jacob gestures to his glass. 

“I’ll show you where to put it.” 

“So, Jacob, what do you do?” She asks, leading him to the kitchen. 

“I’m a mechanic.” At least that’s a question he can answer. 

“Oh?” 

Jake doesn’t miss the slight quirk of her eyebrow, the surprise in her tone. 

“Yeah. I guess you’re more used to professors?” 

Sylvia inclines her head slightly. “I do work at a university.” 

“You said Bella hasn’t talked much about me?” 

“Yes,” Sylvia replied. “I’m not sure why. That is—neither of us are particularly involved in the other’s personal lives, but she’s met my wife, and I’ve heard a bit about Edward.” 

“Your wife?” Jacob’s eyebrows shoot up. 

Sylvia gives him a knowing look. “I didn’t think that you, of all people, would be surprised.” 

Jake cocks his head, waiting for her to explain. 

“I’m not a complete shut-in just because I’m an intellectual.” She pauses. “All I mean is that you and Edward seem rather closer than one might expect from Bella’s description of your relationship.” 

“Bella’s described our relationship?” 

“Not in so many words, perhaps. But I gather that you three are involved in more of lavender relationship than she lets on.” 

Thankfully, Bella took a course on queer history a few years back, so he knows what she’s talking about. “Something like that,” he says. 

Sylvia smiles in satisfaction. “I’ll admit, I was somewhat surprised at seeing the three of you together.” 

Jake sighs, feeling a pit forming in his stomach. “I get told that a lot.” 

“Please don’t take any offense,” Sylvia says. “I simply expected a different sort of life partner for her.” 

Jake swallows the lump in his throat. “None taken. I’m not what people like Bella are used to.” 

“Ah,” Sylvia claps him on the back. “So long as you’re good for her. She can be brilliant, occasionally, so long as she can focus on one thing long enough to get the details. Her dissertation is a pleasure to read when she remembers that.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that.” 

Sylvia smiles. “Do.” 

Someone wanders in to the kitchen then, and Jacob wanders out. 

The house is deceptively confusing for how small it is. Jake wanders out of the kitchen in to a new hallway. He tries the door at the end of it and finds that it leads to a study. 

“Hey.” A voice comes from behind him, mellow, and with an accent Jake can’t quite place. “Jacob, right? Are you looking for the restroom?” 

Jacob turns around to see a man in his late twenties— far younger than most of the other guests. He’s handsome in a nerdy sort of way, with thick framed glasses and a cardigan, but also gorgeous dark skin and a hint of muscle tone beneath his button-down. 

“Oh, no.” Jacob grins sheepishly. “Just trying to find my way back to everyone.” 

The man smiles easily in response. “I can show you there as well. I’ve been here a few times before. It can be a bit of a maze.” He motions for Jake to follow him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name earlier.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the man replies. “You looked a bit overwhelmed.” He turns to face Jacob and extends his hand. “Nadim.” 

Jacob takes his hand and smiles. It’s pleasantly warm and the hallway is quiet. For the first time that night, Jacob can feel himself beginning to relax. After a few long moments, Nadim releases his hand. 

His smile is really very lovely, Jake thinks, and he suddenly becomes very aware of how small the hallway actually is. He can feel the warmth radiating off Nadim. 

“So, what do you do?” Jake asks. Nadim smells like cinnamon, he realizes. And then he realizes that he’s smelling Nadim. Intentionally. 

“Late nineteenth century French poetry.” 

Jake raises his eyebrows. “I have no idea what that entails.” 

Nadim laughs. “Verlaine and Rimbaud, right now. It’s rather tacky for a gay man to study them, but I’m looking in to how their relationship affected their poetry in terms of style and quality. It started as a way to prove a point to a friend about mental illness and writing and then I spiraled from there. I have a very detailed timeline.” 

“You speak French?” Jake asks, trying not to focus on the fact that Nadim is gay and very nice and very attractive. It’s not that he doesn’t trust himself, it would just be awkward if he got too... involved. 

“Ouais,” Nadim says, and then fucking winks, which is totally unfair and Jake feels bad leading him on because he’s very attractive and very nice, but also Jake is in love with two people who are right in the next room, but also he’s the first person all evening to actually seem like he’s enjoying talking to him so would it be a crime to avoid rejecting him? Nadim, oblivious to his internal crisis, continues, “Je suis né au Maroc donc j’suis courant. J’ai pas l’accent parce que j’étudias en France pour l’université et ils sont complètement impossibles avec les accents étrangers.”

“I’ll be honest,” Jake says. “I don’t know what that means. But it sounded very impressive.” 

Nadim smiles, glancing up at Jake through his eyelashes. “There’s more where that came from.” 

“Oh, I—” Jake flounders. So much for avoiding rejecting him. 

A door opens a few feet from where they’re standing, and the overpoweringly sweet scent of honeysuckle enters. 

“Jacob,” Edward says. “I was wondering where you were.” He steps between Nadim and Jake and wraps a possessive arm around his waist. 

“I hate to be a bother,” he says to Nadim, “but would it be at all possible for the two of us to have a moment to ourselves?” 

Nadim visibly deflates. “Of course.” 

Edward waits until the door has closed behind Nadim before pulling Jake in to the study. 

“I speak French too, you know.” Edward’s hand is on Jake’s chest, golden eyes staring earnestly up at him. There’s a strange, possessive lilt to his voice. 

“T’es mon amour— mon trésor— les étoiles dans le vide.” One of Edward’s hands drifts up to the back of Jacob’s neck, the other down to his waist. “Dis-moi ce que tu veux et je te le donnerai.” 

Jake wants to laugh. Edward has nothing to worry about— no reason to try and impress him. But whatever Edward is saying is working, because he feels his knees getting weak as Edward pushes him up against the desk. Maybe Jake just looks the attention.

Edward’s mouth finds the spot it had been worrying before the party. The slight red mark has already faded, but Jake can tell that Edward intends to replace it. Jake whimpers under his touch. 

“I know,” Jake says, “and— ah—German, and Latin and—fuck—Portuguese.” 

Edward tugs at Jake’s hair, and Jake lets out a breath that verges on a moan. 

“And Spanish,” Jake adds. 

“And Finnish and Hungarian,” Edward murmurs in to Jacob’s neck. 

“Exactly,” Jake says, tilting his head so Edward has better access to his throat. “You don’t have anything to worry about.” 

Edward pulls away, a crease forming in the corner of his mouth as he frowns. “Are you sure? He was... warm.” 

Jacob lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m sure.” He presses a gentle kiss to Edward’s forehead. 

Edward smiles a small, soft smile, the one that meets his eyes. “I love you.” 

Jake pulls Edward closer to him, burying his face in Edward’s hair and breathing in the sickly-sweet scent of honeysuckle. “I love you too.” 

Edward whispers something in Jacob’s ear and Jacob can feel himself flush. 

“Let’s go home,” he chokes out. 

Edward smirks. “I’ll tell Bella if you want to slip out the back.” 

Jake nods, and they split up. 

Jake slides in to the passenger seat of the car, thrumming with apprehension. A second later, Edward appears without Bella. 

“She wanted to stay. I told everyone you were sick.” 

Jake cocks his head at Edward as if to say “What are you waiting for?”

Edward grins back triumphantly and turns the key in the ignition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was initially a scene that was... less than PG in this chapter. To keep this work rated T, I've relegated it to the extras.
> 
> Also: my French is not and has never been very good. If I made a mistake, please let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the following conversation about Shakespeare was severely cut down to spare you all from my Opinions.

“See,” Bella is saying, “that’s the thing about MacBeth. It’s too simple— it almost feels like someone trying to imitate Shakespeare’s style without being able to grasp that his forte is in interweaving plotlines.” 

Edward frowns. “I would argue that that is exactly the reason MacBeth is the best tragedy. Beauty in simplicity, after all. It allows him to showcase his ability to create depth without a comedy-like array of characters and storylines.” 

Bella, Edward, and Jacob are sitting in a slowly filling theater in their normal seats: back row, center section with aisle access. It’s easy to slip out from there unnoticed and since none of them ever have to worry about nearsightedness, they still get a perfect view. Well, besides Bella, who occasionally has to sit on Jake to be able to see over a slightly taller-than-average theatergoer. 

Jake is in the aisle seat, paging through his program while half-listening to Bella and Edward debate the merits of MacBeth. He skips over a page advertising half-off karate lessons for adults and realizes he’s at the end of the program. 

Jake normally avoids these sorts of things; there’s too much input— sounds, lights, smells— and he, unlike Edward and Bella, doesn’t have access to the supernatural ability to process everything. They had had to practically drag him out of the apartment to get him to come. 

He’d been fine until Bella had stuck out her bottom lip and blinked innocently in a way that did unreasonable things to his heart and swore up and down that he’d have fun. “Drunk Shakespeare, Jake. I promise it’s hilarious.” 

Jake had raised an eyebrow at Edward over her shoulder, to which Edward had shrugged as if to say ‘it’s not as if I can help you now.’ 

“Fine,” Jacob had relented. “But you’re buying me a bottle of vodka if I need to get drunk to watch it.” 

Bella had grinned. “Deal.” 

Jake sighs, tuning out Bella getting increasingly defensive of the value of comedies as he pages back through the program. He’s just reached the third page when the lights dim. 

Finallly, he thinks loudly, making sure that Edward gets the message. 

Edward throws him an amused, catlike look out of the corner of his eye. 

The theater quiets down somewhat as the actors begin doing shots on stage. 

“Who is who?” Jake asks quietly. “They’re all wearing hoodies.” 

“Well the one who’s about to talk for a while is Orlando,” Bella replies, voice so soft that only the three of them can hear it. “And I’m, like, 90% sure that the one in the gucci sweatshirt is Oliver.” 

Jake shifts uncomfortably. “When do they start getting drunk?” 

Bella grins. “Well last time it happened about 20 minutes in. So I give it until Orlando starts flirting with Rosalind.” 

Jake blinks, confused. 

“The one with the braids.” 

Jake hums in response, settling in to either watch or sleep, depending upon how quickly people start forgetting their lines. 

The play unfolds before him, a mess of hoodies and loud puns and flirting. He’s not familiar with it— he can only tell when the puns are said because Edward snickers next to him—but it’s entertaining nonetheless. Bella was right; it is fun, especially when the actors start slurring their words and ad-libbing lines. 

He looks over at Bella to find that she’s making a chart of tallies. Jake stretches one arms around Edward and taps her on the shoulder. She looks up at his confused face and grins, holding up the chart. 

Edward looks over as well to see a chart divided in to “wrong lines” “wrong lines that work” and “dick jokes that didn’t land”. 

Edward sighs fondly as Jake snorts. Jcob’s head is on Edward’s shoulder when it cuts to intermission, lights flickering back on. 

“Why the chart?” Edward asks Bella. 

Bella grins. “Kay and I have an unofficial study going.” 

Edward smiles gently and shakes his head. “And what would the purpose of such a study be?” 

Jake turns away from them to check his phone. He turns it on and blinks at the bright white light. His screen is covered in notifications of missed calls. He frowns. The first three are from Charlie, the last few are from Billy. His phone rings, and he slips out of the theater to answer. 

“Dad?” He keeps his voice quiet, searching for a quiet spot in the midst of the lines of people waiting for yet more alcohol. Jake spots a stairwell across the way, and starts making his way through the crowd. 

“It’s Charlie,” the voice on the other end says. 

Jacob starts. “Charlie? What’s wrong?” 

“It’s your dad,” Charlie says. “That spot on his leg— he finally got it looked at by a doctor.” 

“The one that looks like a radish?” Jake asks. “He’s had that for years.” 

“Yeah,” Charlie says. “Here’s the thing though: it’s, uh— it got a lot bigger.” 

“What?” Jacob frowns. When had Charlie seen Billy’s leg? It’s not like Billy wears shorts, and they set up the bathroom so Billy wouldn’t need help years ago. 

“The results just came back.” Charlie pauses and Jake can hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the line. “It’s cancerous.” 

Jake blinks. “What?” 

“I’s cancerous.” 

“No, I— I heard you.” Jake runs his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I just...” He exhales sharply. “How bad is it?” 

“We don’t know yet. They’re going to do a sentinel node biopsy.” Charlie sighs on the other end of the line. “Jake, you’re probably going to have to come back. Even if it’s not bad, I can’t get enough time off for the surgeries and the follow ups.” 

Charlie doesn’t bother voicing the other part of the statement— the “if it is bad...”— because if it is bad, then there’s no way in hell Charlie will be able to take enough time off without quitting, and no way Billy can pay for it without Charlie. 

“Oh.” Jake hates how disappointed he sounds. His father has cancer, for fucks sake, it’s not like he’s the one who’s in trouble. But if he has to go back to live with Billy, then Edward and Bella can’t come with him—not that they’d want to. They were made for Seattle, for people, for shows and parties that aren’t always for birthdays. It’s not a coincidence that Bella got out as soon as she could. It’s not a coincidence that Edward never goes back to visit. “Right.” 

“You don’t need to come back immediately,” Charlie says. “I’ve got a few more sick days saved up. But you should come soon.” 

“Right,” Jake repeats. “I’ll, uh, do that. ASAP. I just have a few things I’ll need to fix.” 

“Good. And Jake?” 

“Yeah?” Jake’s voice is barely a whisper. He has to clear his throat before he can hear himself. “Yeah?” He repeats. 

“Don’t tell anyone. Not even your sisters.” Charlie sighs. “He doesn’t want anyone to know. Especially the Cullens. So try and keep from telling Bella and Edward.”

“Okay,” Jake says. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” 

“Bye,” Charlie says. “See you soon.” 

“Bye.” 

The lights flicker above Jake. He sinks down to the floor, back pressed to the wall, and listens as the chatter from the lobby gets quieter and quieter. Soon, he and one person smoking near the bathroom are the only ones left. 

He breathes in, the smell of tobacco wafting its way through the air and choking his throat. He coughs, but that does nothing. Fucking wolf senses. He breathes in again, throat still dry. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself. 

His phone buzzes. 

Intermission is over. Where are you? 

He sighs, pockets and silences his phone, and goes back into the theater. 

Edward and Bella are watching the stage with rapt amber eyes, Bella ready to fill out her chart at a moment’s notice, Edward clearly formulating better ad-libs under his breath. They glance over at Jake cursorily as he slides back in to his seat, but neither Edward nor Bella look at him for more than half a second before their attention returns to the stage. 

The second half of the play seems to be done in an instant—a flash of golden lights and loud voices, a hoodie being thrown off as the actors grow more and more red— and then people are clapping. Jake barely registers Bella passing her makeshift chart to Edward, who adds three marks to the “dick jokes that didn’t land” column. Bella is grinning, glowing with under the soft lights. Edward is smiling softly, the way he does that makes him look like an old untouchable god of beauty. Jake feels tired. So, so tired. 

“What did you think, Jake?” Bella asks, nearly quivering in excitement. “Wasn’t that incredible?” 

Edward rolls his eyes. “Don’t pressure him, I’ve seen better.” 

“Oh, like you could do better while drunk.” Bella snorts derisively. 

“I wouldn’t know.” 

The two of them get up, clearly waiting for Jacob to do the same. He gets up, finally, once he notices them staring. 

“I, uh,” Jake starts, moving aside so they can get past him. 

“Loved it?” Bella smirks. 

Edward rolls his eyes at her fondly and puts a gentle hand on her waist to guide her out. They’re both a few steps away when they notice that Jake is still standing in the same spot. 

“Jacob?” Edward arches an eyebrow. “Is anything the problem?” 

Jake shakes his head almost without thinking, lips pressed together. “Just... tired.” It’s not a lie; there’s a bone deep exhaustion that’s crept throughout his whole body. 

“Okay,” Bella says. She looks unconvinced, but doesn’t push. “Let’s get you home.” She offers a small white hand to him. He takes it after a moment. He can’t feel her cold skin beneath his. He can’t even hear the people around him. It’s as if he’s watching a version of himself react in slow motion. 

Back at the apartment, Jake slips under satin sheets and feels nothing. The first time he feels like himself again is when he wakes up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat from watching Edward and Bella rip his throat out.


	3. Chapter 3

Jacob pushes open the double doors to the building Bella has her joint tiny office in. He’s been once or twice, but always with Bella and never on a Monday afternoon. He pushes back the hood of his sweatshirt, shaking his head to get rid of the rain droplets that have inevitably found his hair. 

To either side stretches hallways lit by fluorescent lights that shine yellow against the linoleum floor. Jake can’t remember which way to go, so he picks left and hopes that he’ll remember Bella’s door when he sees it. 

The hallways are silent, the squelch of his boots echoing with every step. 

It’s been two days, and he still hasn’t told Bella or Edward. He had texted his boss early Sunday morning when he’d woken up from the inevitable nightmare and been unable to go back to sleep. Mel had been understanding— she always was. She’d just asked him to come in for the next four days he was scheduled, and she’d given him a gruff assurance that everything was alright. 

It’s not just that he doesn’t want to tell Edward and Bella— he doesn’t, but there’s more to it— he doesn’t know how to even approach the subject. And what if they want to stay in Seattle? Worse, what if they agree to come back to Forks and hate it there and blame him for dragging them back? Jake has had a tension headache for the past thirty-six hours. 

Jake turns a corner and sees an office with the door cracked open. He brightens up, pace increasing. 

The person sitting in half of the cramped office is not Bella. 

“Oh,” Jake says, “Sorry.” 

The man looks up, a quizzical look across his brow, before breaking in to a smile. “Jacob!” 

“Oh, hey,” Jake says, because the person sitting in front of him is Nadim. “I was looking for Bella.” 

“She’s right around the corner,” Nadim explains, “but you might want to wait before going to see her. She’s got office hours right now and I think there are a few people in there begging for extra credit.” He grimaces. “Poor thing.” 

Jake laughs awkwardly. 

“If you don’t have anywhere to go, you’re welcome to stay here for the next half hour.” Nadim’s face is open, honest, and is requiring absolutely nothing of him. It’s a relief after the last few days. 

Jake sinks in to one of the uncomfortable chairs pushed against the wall. “Thanks.” 

Nadim goes back to grading papers and Jacob pulls out his phone, intending to scroll through twitter until he’s depressed enough to forget the other things that are stressing him out. He looks at the first headline and closes his phone, tilting his head up to the ceiling and closing his eyes. 

“Is something wrong?” Nadim asks. 

Jake grunts in reply. 

“Ah,” Nadim says, looking back down at the paper and frowning. “Nothing I can help with, I assume.” 

Jacob sighs, pressing his lips together in frustration. “Not unless you can create miracles.” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

Nadim’s pen scratches at the paper. “I’m sorry about Friday night,” he says after a minute. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward situation.” 

“Oh, uh,” Jake fumbles. “It’s fine, really. I hope Edward didn’t say anything to you.” 

Nadim cracks a cynical smile. “No. Not that he needed to.” 

Jacob snorts. “Sorry about that. He gets, uh...” 

“I gathered,” Nadim says, a trace of humor echoing in his words. “I hope I’m not the reason you left early.” 

“No!” Jake is surprised at how earnest his tone is. “Well, not really. I didn’t want to stay anyways.” 

“I’m glad to have been of service.” Nadim grins. 

Jake smiles a little at that. “Thank you.” 

“I suppose I won’t be able to enjoy your company at a party anytime soon?” 

Jake’s expression sobers. 

Nadim’s brow draws together in concern. “I’m sorry. Is something wrong?” 

Jacob shakes his head. “Just... reminded me of everything.” 

Nadim absentmindedly raises the end of the pen to his lips. “I’m a good listener, if you want to talk.”

“I—” Jacob looks out into the hallway in a panic. 

“You can close the door,” Nadim offers. “If you want.” 

Jake closes the door. “You won’t say anything to Bella if I tell you something, right?” 

“Oh.” Nadim looks slightly taken aback. “Yes, of course.” 

“I’m leaving Seattle soon.” 

“Oh.” Nadim’s expression is inscrutable. 

“Bella and Edward don’t know.” 

“Ah.” Nadim lets out a sigh of understanding. “Why not?” 

Jake looks away. “I don’t think they’ll come with me.” 

Nadim opens his mouth to speak, but Jacob cuts him off. 

“It’s our hometown— they both hate it. And I have to go back for— for family reasons...” Jake sighs, wanting to bury his face in his hands. “So I’ve been avoiding telling them. That’s why I came over here: to tell Bella.” 

“Ah,” Nadim says. “That seems difficult.” 

Jake snorts. “Yeah.” 

Nadim considers his words carefully before speaking. “If they choose not to come with you, would that be so bad?” 

Jacob looks at Nadim with disbelief. 

“I just mean,” Nadim adds, “people do long-distance relationships often.” 

“Right.” Jake stares at a spot on the cheap desk where the top layer has been stripped off to reveal the cheap particleboard beneath. “Maybe.” 

Nadim raises a manicured eyebrow. “Do you not want a long-distance relationship?” 

“Well, obviously not,” Jacob huffs, “but even if I did... there’s no guarantee that they would want the same.” 

“Maybe not,” Nadim says, “but if it were the only way to stay with you, I have a feeling that they might be okay with it. Edward, at least, seems loath to let you go.” 

“But then they’d be back here, together, and I’d be not here.” Jake realizes he sounds like a petulant child and buries his face in his hands. “I just mean that they might realize that they’re fine without me.” 

Nadim frowns. “I don’t know your relationship very well. I can’t give solid advice, but shouldn’t you just ask them? If they want you, they will tell you.” 

“As if they’d know. As if they’d tell the truth.” Jacob notices the disbelieving look Nadim is giving him. “None of us have ever been good at admitting we want things. Especially things that hurt other people.” 

“Well,” Nadim says with a look that is half-unbelieving, half-unimpressed. “If you don’t trust them, maybe it would be best if you ended it.” 

“I trust them!” Jacob is incredulous. “I just don’t trust that they know themselves!” 

Nadim gives him a flat look. “So, in summary, you don’t want to end it with them, but you think they unknowingly want to end it with you, so you don’t want to have a long-distance relationship in case they realize that, so you think it would be best if you ended it now.” 

“It cuts down on the pain.” Jake looks up at Nadim with miserable eyes. 

Nadim sighs a long-suffering sigh. “I suggest you ask them if they want to come with you first.” 

“Right.” Jacob straightens up. “Maybe they’ll come back if I ask.” 

“Good luck,” Nadim says. “Truly, I hope everything works out for you.” 

“Thanks,” Jacob replies. “Is Bella done yet?” 

Nadim checks his watch. “Nearly.” 

Jake stands up. “I guess I’ll go see her. Thanks again.” 

As he turns the corner, Jacob swears that he hears Nadim mutter, “Ils sont fous ici.” 

When he gets to it, Bella’s door is open, the seats in front of her empty. 

“Jake!” She says, looking up. “I thought I smelled you!” 

Jake shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Wanna go grocery shopping with me?” 

“Sure!” Bella grins. “I could use a break.” 

Jake regrets suggesting grocery shopping. It’s not like the other two have any use for what he buys, and buying food that he’ll just end up leaving in the fridge feels wrong. Still, Bella and Edward will notice if he doesn’t buy anything. So he grabs the smallest versions of the bare necessities and leaves it at that. Thankfully, Bella hasn’t seemed to notice. 

Her hair is tied back with a blue ribbon, a few errant flyaways framing her face, nose scrunched up the tiniest bit as she pokes at peaches. It’s strange, Jake thinks, that even with her pale and blotchy skin turned smooth alabaster, with her hair turned from slightly frizzy to a smooth curtain, with her bones cracked and reformed to be perfectly symmetrical, she still has this sense of imperfection that comes with being Bella. Something in the way her mouth quirks too much on one side when she frowns and the way the skin around her eyes wrinkles when she smiles. Edward is all smooth marble and copper— an angel that’s forgotten how to be human— but Bella has been human too recently to have forgotten all her strange habits. 

Bella notices him staring and cocks her head as a question. 

“I love you,” Jacob says almost involuntarily, surprised by the depths of the emotion in his voice. 

“Oh,” Bella says, brows drawing together in confusion. “I love you too.” She pauses. “These peaches are all overripe.” 

Jake hmms in response and moves along to the apples. Those he can easily bring back to Billy— back home, maybe. Like it’s been that recently. He clenches his jaw unconsciously. It’s not like Seattle has been great for him either. He’s not built for plays and house parties where the punchline of a joke is based on an Ovid/Kafka comparison and he’s barely even read one. 

“Have you talked to Charlie lately?” He asks. 

“What? No.” Bella frowns. “I mean, I try to call once a week, but it’s been a while. Why?” 

Jake shrugs, avoiding her eyes. “Just thought I might go back and visit for a while.” 

Bella sucks in air through her teeth. “Okay then.” 

“You’re not going to join me then?” Jake tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible. 

Bella snorts. “Hell no. Forks is a nightmare and it’s not like I can visit Billy with you. I mean, even if I could cross the treaty line, he wouldn’t want to see me.” 

“Right.” It’s not like Jake didn’t know this was coming. It’s not like he didn’t know Bella might choose Seattle over him. And where Bella goes, Edward goes. 

“Jake? Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” Jake’s voice is rough with emotion. “Fine.” 

Jake picks up an apple, checking for bruises. Bella joins him. 

“I’m probably going to go back for at least a few months.” 

“Oh,” Bella says. “Okay.” 

Jake tries again. “Don’t you want to see Charlie?” Maybe it’s a cheap tactic, dragging her back with him by guilting her into it, but sue him, he doesn’t want to be left alone. 

Bella frowns and turns to Jake, focusing her honey-gold stare on him. “What’s going on?” 

“Billy is getting older.” Jake doesn’t meet her eyes. “That’s all.” 

“What aren’t you telling me?” A touch of annoyance enters her voice. 

Jake exhales angrily. “Why won’t you come back with me?” 

Bella’s eyes flash. “You know how much I hate Forks. You know how horrible it is for me to go back. Why would you try to guilt me in to it?” 

Jake looks determinedly away from her. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s heard the screams that come when she goes back to Forks. He knows she spends every night back in her old house walking around in a waking dream, forever lost in a sea of trees. She’s right. He’s asking too much. “Never mind then.” 

“Fine.” Bella folds her arms and turns back to the apples. 

He’ll go back to Forks alone. 

As Jake is packing his gym bag, Edward stands up from where he’s been reading by the window and comes to sit on the counter next to him. Though the pale grey light would probably make almost anyone else look washed out (it certainly does that to Jacob) but somehow he’s still glowing with warmth— hair a shining auburn, pale skin ever so delicately tinged with lamplight. He’s so beautiful it makes Jacob’s heart hurt. 

He’s like an angel here, up above the city, not like in Forks, where the greenery presses down and Edward shrinks into himself. Jake wants to slam his fist against the countertop. Jake wants to slam Edward against the countertop and him breathless and sighing and warm from being pressed up against Jake. He wants Edward so desperate that he’d follow Jake to the bedroom and swear not to leave him, no matter what. Jake feels the want flood through him, and then feels his chest fill with guilt. 

He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve either of them, period. It was just a matter of time before he had to leave. 

“How are you doing?” Edward asks. Bella is already gone to TA an 8am, so he doesn’t bother keeping his voice down. 

Jake’s brow furrows as he avoids Edwards piercing gaze by staring into the sink. “Fine.” 

Edward raises an eyebrow quizzically. “How’s your family?” 

That’s the worst part about Edward— how goddamned observant he is. He’s so patient, so clever, so able to see right through Jacob. And it wouldn’t be bad, except that it means Edward knows something is wrong and still won’t push Jake to open up. (Still doesn’t care enough to push, the wolf in Jake’s head whispers.) 

“Rebecca’s still in Hawaii. Rachel is in New York,” Jacob says, filling his water bottle so that his hands have something to do. 

Edward looks unimpressed. 

Jacob sighs, screwing the lid shut. “My dad’s getting older.” 

“Hmm.” Edward looks nonplussed in the way that means he’s listening very carefully. He always does that— looks uninvested when he cares and invested when he doesn’t. “Did you have anything to say to me?” 

“You’re the one who started talking to me,” Jake points out, an edge of annoyance creeping in to his otherwise carefully level voice. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“You tell me.” 

Edward is silent after that, and Jacob chances a glance at him to see his catlike eyes staring into nothing. 

“You look like a cat,” Jacob says at long last, unwilling to say anything that might reveal what he’s thinking about. 

Edward lets out a gorgeous breathy laugh. 

Jake merely cocks his head, hoping the wave of emotions that just swept over him doesn’t show on his face. In the morning light, the circles under his eyes are even more prominent. “Can I go now?” 

“You’re always free to go. This isn’t an interrogation.” 

Jacob huffs. 

“I’m serious.” Edward suddenly grows serious as he steps forward, telegraphing his movements, and reaches out slowly for Jacob’s hand. Jake allows him to intertwine their fingers but does nothing beyond that. He’s afraid that if he does, he might crack, and all the walled up emotions will pour out. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if he let the dam burst. “I wouldn’t—” Edward runs his fingers through his hair with his free hand. “I’m not— that is, I hope you don’t feel that I hold you hostage.” 

There is a pregnant pause as Jacob chooses his words. 

“No,” he says, finally. “I can’t be kept. You know that.” 

Edward smiles. “And we are very alike in that.” 

“Right,” Jake says, tone going cold again. He knows he won’t be able to drag Edward back to Forks, especially if Bella wants to stay in Seattle, but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. 

“I’ll see you later,” Edward finally settles on, unsure of how to react to Jake’s latest foray into melodrama. 

Jacob nods and grabs his gym bag. He’s halfway out the door, the sick feeling in his chest abating, the cracks in his heart growing, before he turns back around. 

“Edward?” 

Edward is at his side a fraction of a second later. 

“Yes?” 

Jacob pulls Edward in for a kiss, dropping his bag on the threshold so he can do it properly. He can hear the wolf in his head screaming WRONGWRONGWRONG and tries to lose himself in the kiss. For one glorious minute, it works, and Jake’s brain is quiet for the first time in days. It feels wrong, then, not to have the constant watchfulness of the voice in his head, and he pulls back. Edward’s hair is mussed and his eyes are a touch glazed over. Jacob smirks at the sight, heart still racing from the kiss, then turns and leaves, blinking a few tears out of his eyes as he does so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I should have to add this disclaimer, but just in case: I do not approve of Jake's (lack of) communication.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the first chapter, there is some description of a serious wound and bleeding in this one. Again, I don't believe it falls under the label of "graphic", but I would be remiss in not letting people know just in case.

Jake walks home from the auto shop every Thursday. Bella has a grad seminar from four to seven and Edward likes to go see guest lecturers on Thursday evenings. It’s not like Jake couldn’t take the bus, but it’s only a mile or so and he likes walking through the neighborhoods near his work. He feels at home there in a way he’s never been able to in the classy, upscale, area that Edward chose. He’s not out of place there, in the neighborhood or the auto shop, with his stained jeans and years old work boots. He feels natural. He blends in. 

He always leaves after five. He likes to stay and finish up what he’s doing if it won’t take too long. By the time he leaves this time, it’s already five thirty, and he’s hungry. 

There’s a tex-mex food truck two blocks away that sells massive burritos, so big that even Jacob can barely finish one. The line isn’t too long today, just a few teenagers. They’re not too young— the oldest is at least seventeen— but they’re not really laughing and joking around. Jacob watches as they pool their change on the tiny counter, counting out singles, then quarters, then nickels as they try to put together enough money for each of them to get a taco. 

He feels the urge to give them money, to let them get whatever they want on him, the way Edward does, and his mouth is already open when he stops. 

The summer after his mom died, he started sixth grade. With his dad confined to a wheelchair and unable to drive, and his sisters working after school, no one could pick him up. Most days he’d walk to the tiny gas station, trudging along with a heavy backpack, and spend hours looking around on the sidewalk and in the dirt for spare change, hoping to scrounge up enough to buy gum. One day, a guy walked in. Jake had never seen him before. He was a large guy with a bushy red beard and hands the size of dinner plates. He’d watched Jake pick through old candy wrappers and bits of foil for a while, not in a creepy way, just curious. When Jake went inside, clutching a dirty plastic bag with a few coins inside, the man followed. As Jake had counted out the coins on the counter, the man had walked over and thrown down a ten-dollar bill with a huge smile like he was doing Jake a huge favor. 

“Go on,” he’d said, with a self-satisfied air, “get whatever you want.” 

Jake had looked at him with a sour look, annoyed for a reason he hadn’t been able to articulate them. 

“No thanks,” Jake had said, voice as surly as a ten-year old’s can be. “I can pay for myself.”   
The man had looked at him like he was a strange animal he’d never seen before. His face had a sort of “but aren’t I a good person?” look on it and Jake had felt anger growing in his chest at it. Finally, the man picked his bill back up and walked out. 

When Jake finished counting out the coins, he was four cents short of a dollar. 

Jake watches the kids ask if they can get the tacos without various elements so it’ll be cheaper. Somehow, they manage to scrounge together the cash and move out of the way to wait for their food. Jacob orders his burrito, pays, and then quietly says, “Make double for the kids, I’ll pay. Tell them you messed up the first tacos.” 

The man behind the counter nods, and Jake pays. He watches the kids get double as he waits, and feels a warmth in his chest as their skeptical looks turn in to excited grins. 

As he’s handed the burrito, the guy behind the counter says, “Those kids don’t need your charity.” 

Jacob gives a half shrug. “I know, I was just giving them extra. They can take care of themselves.” 

The guy looks unimpressed, but lets him go without another word. Jacob doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t have anything more to say. He’s a hypocrite.

There’s an invisible line as Jacob walks home. He crosses two streets, and suddenly the cramped apartment building and dingy hole-in-the-wall restaurants turn into gleaming glass monstrosities and French restaurants. Where two blocks ago he’d been nondescript, just another one in the crowd, here he stands out. His jeans aren’t tastefully faded, they’re just old, and his burrito is too big to be fancy. 

When he gets to the apartment, he has to hug his burrito to his chest to get his key out of his pocket. The apartment is dark when he lets himself in, and he flicks on the lights before grabbing a plate and flopping down on the couch. He turns on HGTV and proceeds to continue devouring his half-demolished burrito while he watches some people build what they’re calling a dream home. It takes him the entire episode to finish the food, and when he’s done he just lies down on the couch, plate on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling. He’s just beginning to doze off when the plate slips off his stomach. 

It falls to the floor with a crash and shatters in to a million pieces. Jacob freezes. His hands tense; his jaw clenches. An eternity of a second later he breathes out. 

The plate isn’t rescuable. Even with three pounds of superglue and a paintbrush he wouldn’t be able to save it. So he goes and gets the dustpan and tries very, very hard not to think about how expensive the plate must be, and how now the set of twelve won’t be a set of twelve, and how he’ll have to tell Edward what happened. And it wasn’t even an unavoidable accident! It was just a dumb mistake. 

When he was thirteen, he had dropped an old white plate. His dad had frozen for a torturous second and a half, and then the screaming had started. No words, just one long wordless yell of anger. Jacob had taken a step back, glad his father was on the couch and not close enough to hit him. His eyes had grown hot and his hands had been shaking. 

It had been Rachel that had gone and gotten the dustpan and handed it to him with shaking hands. It had been Rebecca who had gone and sat down just out of reach from his father and begun to speak to him in a soothing voice, telling him that they still had a set of nine and it was truly just an accident, not negligence, and how Jacob would never ever do it again. That night, Jacob had looked through the old box of receipts for large purchases that his mom had kept and his dad hadn’t kept up. He had found the receipt and sighed with relief that the plate he had broken was nine dollars. The next day, he’d taken all the money out of the shoebox he kept his lawn maintenance and house cleaning money in— every bit of the twenty nine dollars and sixty four cents— and given it to his father. Billy had nodded in approval at the wordless apology, and Jake had sighed in relief. He hasn’t dropped a plate since. 

Once he’s swept all the glazed pieces up and dumped them in to a trash bag, covering them with foil and paper towels arranged so that most of the damage can’t be seen, he goes and sits back down on the couch, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He lasts about thirty seconds before he walks over to Edward’s computer, and goes to look up how much the plate cost. 

It’s worse than he ever could have imagined. 525 dollars. For a single plate. Part of him wants to laugh at Edward and part of him wants to run away. 

(YES, the wolf in his head says, RUN) 

(Shut up, the Jake in his head says. Not right now, asshole) 

525 dollars. He can’t afford to pay for it, not with the surgery Billy will need— even if it isn’t serious— not with the hospital bills and the painkillers and the follow up appointments. He doesn’t have enough money saved as it is. 

He deletes the tab and wipes the browser history. He can’t remember how to breathe. The apartment is hot, so hot. Jake falls to the floor and presses his face against the air vent next to him. He still can’t breathe. 

He’s not sure how much time passes as he lies there, watching the back space between the bars of the vent. His breaths quiet eventually, until he can hear the whistle of the cool air from the vent. There’s a smudge on the left side, half a centimeter from the top and a quarter of a centimeter from the side. It’s oblong. It’s grey. Jacob wants to wipe it off. He can imagine himself reaching up, using his thumb to wipe the spot away. He closes his eyes, feels his hand move. When he opens his eyes, the smudge is still there and he hasn’t moved a muscle. 

An eternity later, the sickeningly sweet scent of rotting honeysuckle filters through the air, and, for the first time in hours, Jacob shifts. Bella has entered the building, Edward in tow. They must have met up after the Bella’s seminar, Jacob’s brain puts together. He gives a half nod of acknowledgement to the conjecture he feels he had no part in. They are in the elevator when he gets up. He’s managed to pull himself in to the shower by the time they’re in the apartment. 

When he gets out of the shower, he finds that Bella has left a pair of fresh pajamas for him on the countertop. There’s this stupid choking feeling in his throat when he looks at the loosely folded pile, a stupider one when he hears Edward changing the sheets. Jacob had meant to do that. He towels off and gets dressed quickly, hoping to avoid staring at the pile in a truly pathetic way for a ridiculously long time. 

Cool air rushes in to the bathroom when he opens the door. He must have been in there for longer than he thought. 

Jacob pads over to the bed in bare feet, and sits down on the edge. 

“Edward? Bells?” He says, voice soft. 

Bella is there in half a second. Edward is there half a second later. 

“I broke a plate.” He’s looking down, not meeting their eyes. Bella is barefoot and still in jeans. Edward is wearing the fuzzy cactus socks Jake had got him one year as a gag gift. Edward wears them to bed at least once a week. 

“Oh,” Edward says, laughing with relief. “I had assumed from your tone that it was something serious.” 

Jake looks up at him incredulous. He knows the disgust he feels is splashed across his face. He can’t even bring himself to be relieved about the reaction. 

“Don’t worry about it, Jake,” Bella says, intervening. “Don’t feel bad, it happens to everyone.” 

“Do you know how much those plates cost?” Jake challenges. 

Bella blinks. “No. It can’t be too bad, can it?” 

Jake exhales harshly through his nose. “525 dollars.” 

“What?” Bella looks flabbergasted. “For a set?” 

Jake smiles, his eyes sharp and smile sickly. “For a single one.” 

“What?” Edward asks. “I know it’s a lot, but they were nice plates.” 

“I can’t pay you back, Edward,” Jacob says, and he has to work to keep the growl out of his voice. 

“So?” Edward shrugs. “It’s just a plate.” 

Jake shakes his head disgusted, and even Bella looks horrified. 

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” Jacob says, and orces himself not to look at either of them as he leaves. 

When Jake gets back, Edward is sat on his customary side of the bed and Bella is curled up on the other. Edward moves so Jake can get to the middle. Neither of them says anything. Jacob does not sleep well. 

That night he dreams of running through a forest, cutting his paws on white plate shards until the blood summons the nightmare creatures and his throat is once again ripped out by a pale Bella and paler Edward. 

Jacob breathes in the night air as he gets out of the car. It’s cool, with just touch of sharpness to remind everyone that winter is not quite gone. The air smells of pine. This far out of the city, the stars are more visible. They’re only really an hour out of Seattle, but the difference is marked. Jake can easily make out the Big Dipper, and he thinks he can spot some of Hydra. 

Bella gets out of the back seat where she was stretched out, reading, and joins Edward and Jacob in leaning against the hood of the car, staring at the night sky. 

“Hydra,” Edward points out to Bella. Jacob cocks his head and looks at Edward curiously. 

“Is that a vampire thing?” He asks. He’d be jealous if it was. It’s an odd thing, to love and yet still be envious. He wants what they have— to glow white in the starlight, to be able to reach through the blackness and touch the brilliance. 

“Is what a vampire thing?” Edward responds. 

“The being able to spot faint constellations,” Jacob explains. “I always assumed it was just because you knew where they were, but it’s not easy with all the light pollution, even then.” 

“Hmm.” Edward frowns. “I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve been human, I can’t really remember. Bella?” 

“It helps a bit.” Bella’s voice is strangely soothing, made more so by the lack of loud noises that are ever-present in the city. 

Jacob looks over at her. Her hair blows softly in the wind, her face is serene. Her skin reflects the slight moonlight with a pale glow. Edward, next to her, is the same. He takes a deep breath in, the air smelling like pine and the peculiar vampiric scent of dying honeysuckle. He feels calm, too— placid like he hasn’t felt in days. Perhaps this is what he’s been searching for—this strange place that satisfies the wolf inside him without leaving him to burn. He glances down at his hands, almost-expecting to see them glow white as well. But they don’t. They’re dark, and rough, and calloused, as they always have been. 

The wind changes and he hears a choked gasp from both Bella and Edward. He can smell the iron on the wind. Something has been hurt. Something is ripe for the devouring. 

“I smell something,” she says, voice harsh where it had been soft, grating where it had been smooth. “I’m thirsty.” 

Jake feels a similar sense of urgency, like his bones and muscles are straining under his skin, begging to shift. He wants to run. 

He holds off though, chasing the few extra seconds with Bella and Edward, hoping to savor a little more of the calm. 

“You should shift,” Edward says, voice raspy. 

Edward is right; Jacob knows he’s right. It’s dangerous for him to be in human form when they’re like this. It’s dangerous even to be around them when he’s a wolf. He had tried, that first time. He had hunted with them, trusting in his scent to protect him from their teeth. It had ended in blood. So, so, much blood. It was all they could do to run away from him, in the end. All they could do to not snap his neck and tear him limb from limb. 

He had shifted back in case anyone found him. He had lain on the forest floor, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, coating the grass in red, and then copper, and then brown. He had lain there with a painful itch where his organs and skin knitted themselves back together, with an even more painful open wound. He hadn’t screamed. He couldn’t. He just lay there, quietly, until even the long white scar on his stomach had disappeared. 

He had trudged back to the car and sat there until Edward and Bella came back, and Edward wrinkled his nose at the dried blood on his leather seats. 

“It’s for your own safety,” Edward says, enough in control of himself to at least notice something off. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Bella says, and apparently that’s all she can manage because the next second, she’s already in the woods. 

“Yes,” Edward adds. “Stay away from us.” And then he too is gone. 

He breathes in, the scent of rotting honeysuckle already fading away in the air. 

It’s time. There’s never been a more perfect opportunity to leave. A clean break, that’s what they need. 

AN END, the wolfinside him screams. 

no, he thinks back determinedly, just a break. He knows he’s lying. He’s too much of a coward to admit it to himself, far too much of a coward to tell Edward and Bella. 

He’s not right for them, he knows it. They’re pale and beautiful with voices like honey and the ability to not worry about hospital bills. He was born dark and broke and awkward, and he’ll stay dark and broke an awkward no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

Maybe, he hopes, maybe it will be easier to forget if he doesn’t say goodbye. Maybe it will be easier to move on if he doesn’t have to dream of their faces sighing in relief when he leaves. 

(they wouldn’t, a small part of him says, they’d be hurt 

good, a much larger part of him says, then at least leaving like this means we won’t do anymore damage.) 

It is time. He knows it. He has known for a while. He leaves his phone in the back seat, leaves a note for Bella and Edward that says no more than “Goodbye. Don’t worry”, and ties his wallet to his ankle with the piece of leather cord he always keeps wrapped around his wrist. His hand hovers over his necklace for a moment, the perfect teardrop sparkling in the moonlight like Bella and Edward had only moments before. He can’t take it with him. He doesn’t want to take it with him. So he leaves it too. 

When he shifts, it hurts; it always does. His bones break and reform, his skin stretches over new muscles. He cannot help but glance one last time in their direction. Only a minute ago, they were glimmers of heaven on earth, stars in the wind. Now they are gone. Now they will be gone for a very long time. So he runs. 

YES, the wolf inside Jake cries. GOOD. RUN. 

It is easier to run when he is a wolf. His body is made for it—made for the chase, for the kill. Human bodies are soft and weak, meant to follow and follow and follow until the prey kills itself. Wolves... wolves are made for killing. The voice in his head knows this. The voice in his head howls in elation, soon it is joined by another. His own voice, he realizes. He is howling too. 

The pine needles speed by under his feet. It is daybreak before he knows it. The blue sky turns to grey, the grey to more grey. Last night’s clear sky was a fluke. Jake hasn’t seen the stars in forever. He knows he won’t see them again until forever has passed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the plate Jake broke: https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/global-views-swirl-charger-prod217500030?childItemId=NMHBZDZ_&navpath=cat000000_cat000553_cat40510812_cat44700732&page=0&position=21
> 
> Yes, it really exists. Yes, it is truly horrifying. Yes, it might be a nice plate if it were a reasonable price.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s past midnight when he arrives, shifting back and hoisting himself through his window. His room is full of storage boxes that he rifles around in for some old clothes. The T-shirt he finds falls comfortably across his shoulders, the shorts are no different. It has been years. He has not changed. 

His mouth is sticky and dry, he realizes. He had stopped for water a few times, killed a deer when he had run across a herd. Still, he is hungry. 

The house is darker than it used to be, smaller, or maybe the only thing that’s changed is how accustomed he is to the large windows that Edward favors. Billy must be asleep— there were no lights on in the house when he arrived. He tries to be as quiet as he can. Billy wakes easily and sleeps with a shotgun next to him. Jake has been shot before and he has no particular desire to relive the experience.

The kitchen is filled with the sound of the constant drip of water from the tap. The sound reminds Jake of how thirsty he is. He drinks one glass of water, then two, ignoring the annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Edward that tells him to slow down. He feels sick a moment later. He’s not sure if it’s from the voice or the water. Another voice, one that sounds like a particularly smug Bella, informs him that it’s probably both. He tells it to shut up. 

A light flicks on down the hall and Jake hears Billy call out, “Who’s there? I have a shotgun and a keen eye, I’m warning you.” 

“It’s me, dad,” Jake calls back, and pads down the hall. 

Billy looks awful, and it’s not just the horrible yellow of his old bedsheets that’s washing him out. He’s lost weight, far more than he can afford, and there are dark circles under his eyes. His hair is pulled back in a tight knot, but even so, Jake can see that the strands of grey have gone greasy. 

“You’re home late.” Billy’s voice is a croak, born not out of dehydration but of long, unending exhaustion. 

“I left late,” Jake says. “I ran.” 

Billy raises one eyebrow quizzically. “Trouble?” 

“No.” Jake doesn’t meet his eyes. It doesn’t matter, Billy’s always been able to see right through him. 

“Hmm,” Billy says. “Shower. You need it.” 

Jake gives him a tight smile. “Thanks, Dad.” 

Billy grunts noncommittally. A few minutes later, Jake hears the light in his father’s room click off. 

Jake stretches and then groans when he wakes up. He must have worked out too much yesterday, or something. He waits for Edward to say an obligatory sarcastic “Good morning”. When it doesn’t come, he opens his eyes and he feels his stomach drop beneath him. 

“No thoughts?” Jake mutters at the voice of the wolf in his head, astonishingly silent for once. 

The wolf does not respond. 

He turns over in bed, flat on his back. The ceiling is the awful popcorn that Bella hates; the sheets are rough, not quite old enough to have been worn soft nor expensive enough to have been made that way. 

He’s on a mattress on the floor of his old room. Billy has clearly been using it for storage. As has Rachel, apparently, if the box labelled “Rachel’s Stuff. Don’t touch. Yes, Dad, that means you too” is any indication. He’s in the middle of the floor, greyish light not so much streaming in through the window as filtering through. He glances at the clock on the wall, but it must be broken, because it shows four in the afternoon. 

Jake traipses downstairs after digging his toothbrush out from under the sink. 

No one is home. He shrugs, and makes breakfast. Or lunch, since according to the oven clock it really is four in the afternoon. Once he’s done, he sorts through the mail. That takes all of five minutes, so he decides to dive in to the pile of bills lying on the small table in the hall. That proves more daunting, and he’s not even an eighth of the way through sorting them in to “Now, Later, and Urgent” when the door creaks and Billy comes through, followed by Charlie who is pushing his wheelchair. 

“Jake,” Charlie says with an air of relief. “You’re finally back.” 

Jake forces a smile on to his face, hoping it doesn’t look as much like a grimace as it feels. From the look Charlie gives him, it looks as gruesome as he thinks it does. He drops it. 

“Hey, Charlie.” 

“Bella didn’t say you were coming.” Charlie wheels Billy fully into the house before coming over and giving Jake an awkward pat on the shoulder. 

“Bella, uh.” Jacob coughs, “Bella doesn’t know.” 

Jake chances a look up at Charlie. His bushy brows are drawn together in a stunning approximation of his daughter. 

“Things weren’t working out,” Jacob explains, voice rough with emotion. It’s not a lie, really, but Jake doesn’t want to think about what Charlie is going to think once he finds out how it ended. 

“Ah.” 

That’s the nice thing about Charlie, he never wants to talk about feelings with anyone—he doesn’t even want to think about them. Charlie gives Jake another awkward pat on the shoulder and goes to bring in some groceries. 

Jake looks up again from the pile of bills to see Billy giving him and inscrutable look. All of Billy’s looks are inscrutable (it’s how he remains so terrifying) but this one is unsettling for more reasons than one. He must find what he’s looking for in Jake’s face, because he nods and rolls himself in to the bathroom. 

A little while later, Charlie and Billy are sitting on the porch together, drinking in silence and Jake is nearly all of the way through sorting the bills, when Charlie’s cell phone rings. Jake doesn’t answer, of course, and it quickly goes to voicemail. 

It’s Bella. 

“Charlie?” She says. “Pick up when you get this. Jake is gone and he left his phone and we don’t know his house phone number and we’re really worried. Is he there with you or—” 

Jake picks up the phone, feeling as if he’s moving in slow motion, like golden syrup is weighing down his arm. The wolf in his head is howling NO NO NO but the ridiculous pit in his chest is screaming yes and he doesn’t even know what he’ll say. 

“I’m fine.” 

He hears a gasp on the other side of the line. 

“Jake?” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“Jake?” She repeats, voice rising in a panic. 

“I’m here.” He keeps his voice as carefully neutral as he can. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Jake says, lying through his teeth. “Nothing is wrong.” 

There’s a pause as Bella considers her words. Jake blinks and he can see her, pacing back and forth, breathing heavily out of habit instead of out of need. Her brows are drawn together and her eyes are shrouded by a curtain of hair. 

“Don’t lie,” she says, though it doesn’t sound anything like an order. She’s begging, and both of them know it. 

“It was easier this way.” 

“For who? Jake, we’ve been worried sick!” 

Jacob laughs hollowly. “You’re not my mother.” 

“What the hell Jake.” And now she’s angry. She’s beautiful right now, he’s sure of it. Her eyes are glowing, her hair lit up in that strange halo that comes when she squares her shoulders and bares her teeth. “You don’t get to leave like this. Aren’t we owed an explanation? Don’t you have the common fucking decency to say goodbye?” 

She takes a breath, and Jake sees her steady herself in her mind’s eye, taking a deep breath and forcing her hands to stop shaking. 

Jake feels the chasm opening up in his chest again, and the world is yelling at him to RUN RUN RUN. For once, he has the strength to listen. 

He hangs up. He doesn’t pick it up when it begins to ring again. 

Jake turns over on his thin, floor-bound mattress for the third time in as many minutes. The moonlight is coming through the single, small, window and illuminating the dust motes floating in the air with silver light. He breathes out and watches them swirl away from his face into the shadows of the boxes. So much for not seeing stars again for a while. The universe loves to spite him.

He’s not breathing hard, covered in sweat, so at least he has that going for him, but at least when he got the nightmares he was getting some sleep. Now, it’s past midnight, he can’t sleep, and he needs to clean the whole house tomorrow. 

He pulls the blanket on, then pushes it off again. It’s too hot under it, but he can’t get by without the comforting weight on his legs. He instinctively reaches out to pull Bella closer to him. His hand grazes the floor. He sighs. 

Jake gets up and heads to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother turning the light on. He has excellent night vision, and the moonlight is bright enough anyways. 

He’s never been particularly model-like. His bottom lip is larger than his top one, his eyelashes are nearly invisible, and when he had the whole werewolf growth spurt, he never really adjusted to the height and force his muscles have lent him. He feels like a kid in a bodybuilder’s body, always on the verge of taking up too much space in a room, unaccustomed to his own legs. 

Still, looking at himself in the mirror makes it clear how very un-model-like he is. The circles under his eyes that have been omnipresent for the last few months have grown, making his skin not a gorgeous bruised purple like Edward and Bella, but a darker brown. His eyes are red, too. Not the irises— the whites, like any normal human being when deprived of sleep. He can see the exhaustion etching its way across his skin in the lines around his eyes. 

He kind of wants to punch the mirror and pay for it with one of the numerous credit cards Edward had forced upon him, but he knows that the second he uses it, he won’t be able to stop himself. Billy’s hospital bills would end up being paid by the Cullens. They probably wouldn’t even notice. Somehow that’s worse/

It was easy to hate the Cullens when he was younger. They were pale and beautiful and perfect in all the ways he wasn’t. Then he found out what they were and it was even easier. Now when he reaches for that initial hatred—that disgust with how they lived and what they were—he can’t hate them. He knows that, at its core, it’s just jealousy. What he wouldn’t give to be like them—to be better. Then, at least, he could walk up to Bella and Edward as an equal. Then, at least, they wouldn’t be fated to get bored with him in the end. 

Jake rubs his eyes and decides to get a cup of tea. 

The kettle boils and he takes it off the burner just in time for the phone to ring. Jake checks the caller ID. It’s Charlie. 

It’s almost certainly not an emergency—he's probably just heard from Bella and is calling Jake to figure out exactly where and how he can shoot him for being such a coward. Still, if it is an emergency... 

Jake picks up the receiver. 

“Jake,” Charlie says, and Jacob can already hear the anger in his voice. “Would you care to tell me why my daughter and the Cullen boy just showed up at my house at one in the morning claiming that I needed to lure you out of La Push?” 

Jacob blinks in surprise. Seattle is a long drive, even with Edward’s incredible disregard for any and all laws, especially speed limits, and Bella has class in the morning. Why did they come? 

“I honestly don’t know,” Jake replies, telling the truth. “I didn’t think they would do that.” 

“Well apparently,” and Charlie pauses on that word, drawing it out so Jake can hear just how annoyed he is, “they did. And personally, I don’t like it when Edward looks like he’s about to commit a murder and I like it even less when my daughter looks like she’s about to cry.” 

“Sorry, Charlie,” Jake says, because, really, what else can he say? 

“Whatever. Just do whatever it is you need to so they both stop looking like that, and we’ll be even.” 

“Charlie—” 

“Just do it. I have a long shift tomorrow.” 

Jake sighs. “Are they in the room with you?” 

Charlie’s lack of response is all the answer he needs. 

“I’ll meet them at the treaty line in half an hour. Right where the creek gets shallow.” He hangs up. 

The wolf in his head is growling at him. No words, just one long snarl of frustration. 

Jake doesn’t bother putting on real clothes, just slipping a hoodie over his t-shirt. He stuffs his feet into his boots, sans socks, and goes to the shed to grab his old bike. He would shift and run there, but he gets the feeling that Bella will want to hear him and he doesn’t enjoy the thought of being totally naked in front of them in the woods. Jake doesn’t leave a note for Billy. With any luck he’ll be back before Billy even realizes. 

He walks the bike past the houses until he’s sure he won’t wake anyone, then swings a leg over the seat and rides. He’s forgotten how comforting the wind in his hair is, how easy it is to breathe as it carries him over the roads to a small path in the woods. 

When he gets there, the creek is spread out in front of him, just like in his dreams. It’s shallow, swirls and eddies making their way around the bed of rocks, glistening in the moonlight. He stands on the bank, toes edges from the water, and waits for Bella and Edward. 

They arrive on a slight breeze—a soft rush of air that disturbs the leaves on the trees. One moment the opposite bank is empty, then the leaves rustle and they are there, glorious in the moonlight. 

RUN, the wolf in Jake’s head says, LEAVE NOW 

There is a tense moment of silence as all of them attempt to figure out who should speak first. 

Jake does. “Charlie seems pretty bothered.” 

Bella exhales angrily. “Charlie seems pretty bothered?” 

“Yeah.” Jake keeps his expression neutral. 

Edward intercedes before Jake can antagonize her any further. “What on god’s great earth were you thinking, leaving us like that?” 

The line of Jake’s lips tightened. “Did you have anything to actually say, or did you just come here to berate me because you can’t handle the thought that I might have a life outside of you.” 

Edward’s expression grows icy. “That was uncalled for.” 

Jake shrugs. “So? You’re the ones that wanted to talk to me.” 

“You could at least be cordial.” 

This time it’s Bella who intercedes. “We just want answers.” 

Jacob frowns. “Fine. Ask your questions. I have a long day tomorrow and I would rather you not keep me up.” 

Bella’s eyes flash. “Okay, you want a question? What the hell, Jake? Why are you being such a complete dick for no reason? First you leave out of the blue, now you won’t even talk to us, let alone apologize? What. the. hell.” 

Jake shrugs. “Is it really so hard to believe that I wanted to leave?” 

Bella stops in her tracks, face frozen. 

“Well, yes, actually.” Edward’s voice is soft and sad. “I thought you were happy with us.” 

Jake looks at Edward, and that’s a mistake because what he sees makes a well of guilt open up in his chest. Edward looks really, truly, devasted. His hair is a mess, sticking out every which way where he’s run his fingers it over and over. His lips are dry and worried red from where he’s bitten them over and over. Worst of all are his eyes. 

It’s a peculiar fact about vampires that they can’t cry. Bella had once described it as feeling as though you should be crying, but you’ve run out of tears. Their eyes go dry and itchy from the lack of tears, eventually turning red, but no matter how hard they try, they can’t shed a single tear. 

Edward’s eyes are red. Not the irises, which are a dark gold, but the whites and the skin around them. He’s been rubbing at them all day, Jacob knows, and he’d only do that if he had been as close to crying as he can get. 

“I was.” Jacob’s voice is a whisper in his own ears. The words slipped out on breath and now he can’t take them back. “But it was wrong,” he continues before Edward can ask. The creek must be lending him power, the treaty forming an invisible protection. No matter what, he can leave, and they can’t cross to stop him. “I’m wrong for you— both of you. I don’t belong in your world.” 

“Jake, don’t be ridiculous,” Bella says. “You’re one of the only people who does truly belong.” 

“Really, Bella?” Jake raises his eyebrows, giving her a flat look. “Because only one of us isn’t sparkling in the moonlight right now. Only one of us can cross the creek. We’re fundamentally different.” 

“That’s just biology, though.” Bella is fervent, her gold eyes pleading with Jake. It works, and he hates that it works and he hates her for being able to do that to him. 

He exhales angrily. “It’s not though, is it. Because you people buy expensive plates and are fine when they get broken.” 

“This is about a plate? I said it was fine.” A crease appears beside the corner of Edward’s mouth. 

“No!” Jake says, wanting to scream. “That’s the problem! It’s not fine. In my house we don’t break plates and say it’s fine. We never had the luxury of doing that.” 

“So it’s about money?” Edward still looks bewildered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I don’t think any less of you for not having as much.” 

“It’s not just the money. It’s the whole thing! Seattle and that neighborhood and apartment and a shower big enough for three people and cashmere socks and I’m just wrong for it, okay? I’m just wrong.” 

“Do you not like the apartment?” Edward asks. “I’m really trying to understand.” 

“I know you are.” Jacob doesn’t sound quite defeated, but it’s laced its way in to his voice between the frustration. “And that just makes it worse, because I don’t want to leave—not really. But it’s the right thing to do. All of me is different. I mean, fuck, we don’t even look right together.” 

“Wait,” Bella says. “You’re leaving because of what other people think? I don’t care about that. We don’t care about that” 

“But you should,” Jake replies, “and I do. Because they’re right.” 

“You keep saying that.” Bella frowns. “But you haven’t said anything that makes that true.” 

Jacob can feel the panic rising inside him. It’s not that he’s lying about him being wrong for them, he’s just lying about that being his final excuse. He knows himself— knows he would be too weak to leave without the pull of Billy— knows he’s a failure as a wolf and as a human. Too scared of his own loneliness to leave and yet not good enough to stay. 

“You two are so goddamned smart and sophisticated and it just—” He runs his fingers through his hair anxiously in what he realizes too late is the mirror image of Edward. “I barely graduated high school.” 

“You were dealing with Victoria and then the pack and—” Bella attempts to justify. 

Jacob gives her a cynical look “Weren’t we all?” He huffs. “Look, I know I’m not good at school, and that never used to bother me. But around you two I just feel...” 

“Wrong.” Edward’s voice is an echo. 

Jake nods. He can see on Edward’s face that the reality is setting in. Bella, though, is only angrier. 

“So what?” 

Jacob blinks, too astonished to even be mad about it. “What?” 

“So what if you feel wrong?” Bella says, hands on her hips. “If you want to be with us, then be with us. If you don’t, then just say it, and don’t try to spare our feelings.” 

Jake lets out a short, sharp, bark of a laugh. She went the complete wrong direction and yet somehow ended up at the crux of the matter. He wants to spare their feelings. He wants to spare his own, as much as he can given the fact that his heart splits in half and a pit opens up in his stomach every time he thinks about waking up in the middle of the night, burning and alone. 

Edward’s face is stony when Jacob glances at it. Clearly, he’s with Bella. He always is. 

“Fine,” Jake says. “Move back to Forks with me and we’ll talk.”

“What?” Bella has clearly been thrown for a loop. Edward, too, is looking confused. “Why? What’s wrong with Seattle?” 

“Nothing,” Jake shrugs, attempting to seem as uncaring as possible though the inside of his brain is a screaming match between the wolf, which is seething and howling, and his own stupid voice which is begging them to say yes. 

“Why are you asking this?” Edward asks. 

Here’s the thing: Jake can’t tell them the real reason, because if they move back because he has a sick dad, then it’s like they have to. If they choose to, just for him, then it’s alright, because when they get bored later, it’ll be their fault, not his. 

“What is this, some sort of test?” Bella’s eyes are narrowed. 

And now Jacob wants to scream, because Bella, once again, has hit the nail on the head. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t even move. He just folds his arms and waits for them to decide. 

A cloud passes over the moon. 

Then Bella is yelling. “Just tell us what you want!” Her hands go up to her head, covering her temples, and then she is falling, falling, collapsing in on herself, until she’s on her knees. “Please Jake,” she looks up, and her eyes are wide and terrified. “Don’t do this to me. I just—” she seems to be fighting a lump in her throat, waiting for tears that will never come. “I just don’t want to lose you.” 

Jake can’t look away no matter how much he wants to. 

The water laps at Bella’s knees where she has fallen. Her pale skin is grey, covered in the shadows of the clouds, and she is clutching at her abdomen as if her body is being torn apart. Her hair is a shade around her face, falling just where Jake can see that it’s full of knots and tangles from running. Next to her, Edward stands, frozen, looking at the scene before him with fear and longing, eyes wide. 

Jacob blinks, then hot tears are streaming down his cheeks. He wipes them away with the sleeve of his hoodie once, twice, but they just keep coming. He won’t move, not with the wolf in his head screaming at him not to. He holds off the urge for one moment, then another. He can’t hold off for a third. 

Jacob splashes his way across the creek. 

Bella looks up at him. 

“I want— I want—” He can barely get the words out between the tears. “I want to stay with both of you— I do. I just left because,” he takes a deep breath. “I had to come back and I couldn’t drag you two with me. Not when I know how much you love Seattle. I couldn’t risk—” he can barely choke out the words as fresh tears begin rolling down his cheeks. “I couldn’t risk you moving back and realizing that was the final straw with me. If I dragged you back and you hated it then you would finally realize I’m wrong for you and you would,” he wipes the tears away furiously, “you would hate me.” 

Bella slowly shakes her head and gets up. “I— Jake, I could never hate you. Even if I wasn’t happy in Forks, I would never blame it on you. If this is something that you need to be happy, then we’ll do it. We’ll come back.” 

Edward nods in agreement. 

“That’s—” Jacob takes another deep breath, attempting to steady his voice. “That’s the thing, I’m not happy here. I don’t love Seattle but... god, I hate it here.” 

“Then why..?” Edward asks. 

Jake takes a deep breath, raising his face to the sky. He knows if he looks at either of them, he’ll break down. 

The cloud covering the moon slowly peels away, leaving Jake in the moonlight. 

“Billy has melanoma. I need to be here to help.” 

A silence falls. The only sounds are the light rushing of the water against the riverbank and the wind against the leaves. 

“I’m sorry,” Edward says, his tone sincere. “I know that’s not much help, but—” He cuts himself off. 

“But what?” 

Edward runs his fingers through his hair. “I was going to offer to help pay for the hospital bills. Sorry.” 

Jake sighs, feeling like a dick. “Don’t apologize. You just want to help. It’s just... I hate feeling like I need to be taken care of.” 

“Oh,” Edward says. 

“I don’t want you to pay the bills, but if you wanted to help out, I would appreciate help cooking for him.” 

Edward’s face brightens at the prospect. “Of course. I’d love to.” 

Jake smiles. It’s a weak one, but it’s the biggest one in weeks. “I love you. Both of you.”   
“I love you too,” they both say, just slightly out of sync with each other. Bella, as always, seems to be rushing the words out, as if afraid she won’t get enough time to say them otherwise. Edward is slower, not quite savoring the words, but making sure each one hits its mark. 

“Can I?” Bella asks, stepping towards Jake. 

He nods, and she wraps him up in a hug, almost lifting him up. He laughs at she promptly drops him apologetically. Edward gives him a kiss on the cheek and he laughs again before capturing Edward’s lips with his own. 

“Sleep at my place?” Bella offers, and Jake nods. Apparently none of them want to be separated again. 

That night is the first night in a long while that he doesn’t dream. 

He wakes up the next morning in Bella’s arms, her soft breaths ruffling his hair. Edward is curled around him on his side, one arm thrown over him and copper curls brushing against his cheek. The light filtering in the window is grey, as it tends to be in Forks, leaving Jacob to only guess at the time. 

“You’re awake,” Edward says softly, breath like sugar syrup. 

“Mm.” Jake keeps his eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of the cool bodies around him. 

Edward nuzzles his cheek, seemingly determined to attach himself to as much of Jacob as he can. “You didn’t have a nightmare.” 

Jake lets out a breath. “No.” A confused smile plays at the edge of his lips. “That’s new.” 

He can feel the curve of Edward’s cheek against his as Edward smiles. 

“I love you.” Edward’s voice is low, almost a whisper. 

Jake smiles a small smile. “I know.” 

“What are we talking about” Bella’s voice is soft as she drifts out of her dozing. 

“Nothing, really,” Jake says, turning his head so his face brushes her arm. 

He feels her shift, becoming more alert. 

Bella places one hand on his chest and lets out a small noise of surprise and pleasure. “You didn’t have a nightmare.” 

“I know.” His breathing slows again as he settles between the two of them, letting himself relax for the first time in days. 

“I love you,” Bella says into Jake’s scalp where she’s buried her face. Jake blinks awake again at the sound of her voice. 

“Love you too, Bells.” 

“You haven’t called me that in years.” Bella sounds amused and slightly mystified. 

Jacob yawns. “We’re back in your bedroom. Guess that triggered an old habit.” 

“Mmm, it’s weird being back here.” Bella grins and looks at Edward. “Remember when you used to come in through the window when Charlie was still pissed at you?” 

Edward snorts. “Technically, he did say never to walk through the door again.” 

“My god,” Jake says, “you were just as annoyingly smug back then, weren’t you?” 

Edward’s mouth twists in to a wry smile. “Maybe.” 

“Nah,” Bella says, “he was worse.” 

Edward grins. “Your influence has changed me, my dears.” 

Jake snorts and Bella presses her lips together to keep from smiling. 

“I’m not joking,” Edward says, tone becoming more sober. “Well, perhaps I was joking a little. But it’s true. I was different, back then. Still stubborn and facetious, I’m told, but also so... desperate.” He pauses. “Bella, love, do you remember when I told you what my life was like before you.” 

Bella frowns. “A sea of void, was it?” 

Edward rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t so melodramatic as to say that. It was a starless void.” 

“Oh,” Bella says, “and that’s so much better.” 

Edward gives her a flat look. “I was incredibly lonely and deeply depressed, I think that merits some consideration when making fun of me for my metaphors.” 

“Fine,” Bella says. “I’ll lay off. But only because you were seventeen.” 

Edward shakes his head fondly at her nonsense before continuing. “Bella was a shooting star streaking across the sky. For the first time, I had no way to judge someone before I knew them. She was warm, and kind, and strange. The second I got close enough to feel that warmth, I was a man obsessed, but not with her. I was spellbound by this image of her in my mind and I refused to let it go— to let her go. I don’t know how she tolerated it.” 

“I needed someone who cared about me,” Bella says plainly. “Like, really cared, not just with words, but with actions. You were clever and beautiful and you cared. That’s all it really took, back then.” 

“Right,” Edward says. “My point being, I wasn’t someone I would have been proud for you to know.” 

Jake snorts. “I didn’t want to know you anyways.” 

Edward grins. “Trust me, I was very aware of that fact.” His gaze drifts over Bella and Jacob, their limbs entangled, Bella’s hand on Jake’s chest. “In some ways, I’m glad we were so diametrically opposed. Every time I think of the sort of things I did, I want to run into the woods and never return. It’s not an image I want you to have of me— that of a man at the edge of sanity, half-stalking someone he’s just met.” 

Jacob shrugs. “You’re different now. That’s all that matters.” 

Edward lets out a huff. “I hope so.” 

“You are,” Bella says. “Trust me.” 

Edward looks up at her, face softening as he looks at her. “I do.” 

“Jake?” Bella asks after a moment, hands lightly skimming Jacob’s arms, as if to confirm that he’s still there. “The nightmares... did we have something to do with them?” 

Jacob is silent. 

“You don’t have to answer,” she adds on in a rush. “I just—wanted to ask.” 

Jake sighs deeply, then chooses his words carefully. “Yes. You were—both of you—in them.” 

“May I ask in what capacity?” Edward’s eyes are a lovely honey color even in the greyish light, Jake notices. 

“I— well.” He sighs again, restraining the urge to bury his face in a pillow. “That night in the woods, the first time I came with you when you hunted— that was...” He trails off. 

“Oh.” Edward’s face is a mix of guilt and horror 

“I know there’s nothing we can do to make up for it,” Bella says, (and they had tried to make up for it, Jake remembers. Heaping gifts upon him and touching him gently and hesitantly— walking around him skittishly, as if any movement might upset him. It had driven him crazy.) “but if we can do anything, please,” her voice wobbles, “let us know.” 

“I know you’re sorry,” Jake’s voice has an edge of desperation in it. “I know you didn’t mean to. I just—” 

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Edward says. “We hurt you, regardless of how we feel about it. You shouldn’t feel guilty for making us feel bad.” 

The three of them are silent for a moment, each formulating their own words in response to the tension surrounding them. 

“What about therapy?” Bella asks, breaking the silence. “I know it’s not a catch-all solution, but could it help? To keep the nightmares from coming back, just in case.” 

“What?” Jacob stares at her like she’s grown a third head. “I mean, you do realize I could never tell them anything, right?” 

“You could lie,” Bella suggests helpfully. 

Edward blinks. “Bella, dear, you do realize that that defeats the purpose of a therapist?” 

“Not lie about everything.” Bella rolls her eyes. “Just find a creative way to re-interpret the stuff you need to talk about.” 

Jake frowns in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea. It would be kind of nice to talk to someone whose feelings I don’t care about. No offense.” 

Edward huffs in amusement. “None taken.” 

“I completely understand,” Bella agrees, “That’s why I keep going to brunch with people I don’t like.” 

Jake laughs—really laughs— for the first time in days. “Sorry,” he says once he’s gotten it under control. Jacob presses his lips together to avoid another fit of laughter. “That’s just a very Bella thing to do.” 

“Well,” she smiles wryly. “I am Bella. I tend to do Bella things.” 

Jake grins. “Is that the excuse we’re going to use when Charlie finds the three of us all crammed into your old bed?” 

“From the looks of it,” Edward says, eyes getting that distant look that means he’s listening to people’s thoughts, “he half expected it when we went down to La Push. And—” Edward’s mouth drops open in astonishment at the new thought he’s just happened upon. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I did not expect that.” 

“What is it?” Bella’s brow wrinkles in concern. 

Edward’s gaze flicks away from the both of them, awkwardness etching itself in the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure I’m quite the right person to tell either of you.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Bella says, “just tell us what it is before we freak out.” 

“Alright,” Edward says, “but don’t blame me if you regret it.” 

The two of them look at him, waiting. 

“Fine.” He lets out a huff. “Your fathers are, well, involved.” 

Jake’s mouth drops open. Bella’s eyes go wide. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I assure you that I am not.” He grimaces. “I heard some rather... graphic things from Charlie that confirm it.” 

“Oh, ew.” Bella’s face is disgusted. 

Jake makes a face. “Edward, what the fuck?” 

“You asked,” Edward says, tone defensive. 

Bella cringes. “And I’m regretting it.” 

“Ugh,” Jake moans, burying his face in the fabric of Bella’s t-shirt. “I did not want to think about that ever.” 

“You asked,” Edward says, spreading his hands in surrender.   
“And we listened, but, god, at what cost?” Bella raises her face to the heavens. She pauses. “For how long?” 

Edward raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you want to know?” 

“Yes,” Bella says emphatically. “And then I never want to think about it again.” 

Edward frowns, face becoming distant. He turns back to them a second later. “Several months, I think, if I’m putting together the timeline right. He’s rather enamored. Keeps reminiscing over their first encounter of an amorous nature.” 

“Okay, nope,” Jake says. “We’re done. I’m going back home to deep clean every single room and definitely not think about this.” 

Edward grins. “Let me drive you?” 

“Is that your attempt to make up for mentally scarring me?” 

“I could make up for it in a different way,” Edward suggests, voice going honey-like, dripping with suggestion. 

Jake groans. “You can’t do this to me. Not in this bedroom with Charlie downstairs.” 

“Why not?” Edward’s hand skims across Jake’s chest, dipping down to his waistband. “We’ve done it before.” 

“Years ago.” Bella’s tone brooks no argument. “We’re adults now. Well,” she pauses, “Jake is. And I’m told I’ve always been at least thirty.” 

Edward pouts. “I’m older than both of you put together.” 

“And still as horny as a teenager.” 

Jake snorts at the look on Edward’s face. 

“Later,” Bella insists. “When we have time and space.” 

“Very well,” Edward agrees. He slides out of the covers and stands, a mere blur of alabaster and copper against the light blue walls. He offers his hand to Jacob, who takes it and pulls himself out of the bed. It’s a trick, because before Jacob knows it, Edward has pulled him into a kiss. Jake is distracted enough by the kiss that Edward can wrap one hand around his waist and one around the back of his next. 

They break apart, Jake panting, mouth wet andreddened. 

“Changed your mind?” Edward is managing to look incredibly innocent for someone scheming to get laid. 

Bella smiles coyly and for a second Edward thinks he’s succeeded.

“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “Let’s go.” Bella is a blur as she slides out of bed and opens the window, jumping down without pause. 

“You’re not going to change?” Jake asks, following her down. 

“No,” she says. “You know how that tends to go.” She nods at Edward, who jumps down after them and smiles innocently in response. 

“I would never do anything untoward,” Edward swears.

Jake and Bella meet eyes with the sort of looks reserved for people who are in love with the sort of person who regularly lies through their teeth without trying to hide it and somehow manages to make it charming. 

“Good point,” Jake says to Bella.

As she marches over to the car, Bella’s answering smile is one of triumph. She throws open the door and slides in to the backseat, motioning for Jake to join her. 

Edward pouts dramatically. “So I’m to be left all by my lonesome, a lonely lover turned chauffeur?” 

Bella and Jacob lock eyes and manage approximately one second of silence before they start laughing. A few moments later, Edward’s laughter joins theirs. 

“Now drive,” Bella says to Edward once the laughter has subsided. 

“But of course” Edward says, a mischievous twinkle belying the serious tone, and he starts the car.


	6. Epilogue

Jake patters anxiously around the house, searching for things to fix. He’s deep cleaned every room twice, fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen, changed four lightbulbs, done every bit of laundry he can find, and prepped and frozen meals for the next month. 

The floorboard underneath his foot creaks, and he frowns, resisting the urge to nail it down. Billy likes floorboards that creak and door hinges that grate. It lets him know if someone is trying to sneak up on him. 

He steps over the floorboard and goes into the living room, collapsing on the old couch which has, against all odds, managed to avoid large stains and noticeable fraying. Jake frowns again, gets up, and flips over the left couch cushion. There’s still a grape juice stain on it from when he was six, faded from all the desperate bleaching. Maybe he should reupholster the couch. He sits down again, the lumpy couch welcoming him. Maybe he should restuff the cushions too. 

His phone buzzes and he picks it up eagerly. 

Any news yet??? 

He responds to Bella’s text, no :// maybe soon 

He sighs and falls back into the couch. It’s not relaxing. 

His phone buzzes again, and once again he picks it up eagerly. This time, it’s Charlie calling. He picks up and waits for Charlie to speak. 

“It hasn’t spread,” Charlie says. 

Jake lets out a breath and feels every single one of his muscles relax in a way they haven’t in days. 

“It’ll be one surgery and a few follow-ups. He’ll still need you for a few months because I can’t make all of the follow-ups, but he’s going to be fine.” 

“Good,” Jake says, and that doesn’t even begin to describe it. “That’s a relief.” Relief doesn’t even begin to describe it. He’s had a stone at the bottom of his stomach for weeks now, and it’s finally begun to lift. 

WEAK, the wolf in his head shouts. 

Jacob is too relieved to even listen. 

“Is he going to tell Rachel and Rebecca?” 

Charlie grumbles and Jake hears a muffled “He wants to know if you’re going to tell Rachel and Rebecca.” 

“He doesn’t want to,” Charlie says after a moment. Another pause. Charlie’s voice is far away “Yes, I think you should tell them. They’re your daughters.” He pauses, and Jacob can almost hear Billy speak in the background. “He says that I won’t let him hear the end of it if he doesn’t.” 

“Gotcha.” Jake’s face is covered in a relieved grin. 

“Hm. Talk to you later.” Charlie hangs up. 

It’s going to be okay, Jake texts. See you at the line in ten minutes? 

Bella sends him a thumbs up. 

Jake ditches his bike in a bush a few feet off the road, trusting that no one is going to see it and steal it. Curtesy of Edward’s insane driving, Bella and Edward are there waiting for him when he gets there. 

Bella stands up from where she’s been leaning on the hood of the car and Jake collapses gratefully into her arms. The build of tension in his muscles has left him drained. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to see your father,” Edward says. 

Jake shrugs, “Figured I’d let him and Charlie celebrate by drinking in silence together.” 

Edward huffs in amusement. 

Bella runs her fingers through Jake’s hair, then over the bags under his eyes. “You need sleep.” 

Jake hums in agreement. 

“Spend the night,” Bella suggests. 

“’Kay.” Jake buries his head in the crook of her neck. He pauses, warm breath ghosting over her cool skin. “It’ll still be a few weeks before we can go back.” 

“Of course,” Bella says, petting his hair. “We’ll be here for as long as it takes.” 

“Shall we get going?” Edward is standing next to the backdoor of the car, already open. 

“Yup.” Bella hoists Jake up with no effort, carrying him bridal style. In a rush of wind, they’re around the side of the car and she’s sliding in to the backseat with him. 

“I can walk.” There’s no real protest in his voice. 

“And I can drive,” Bella replies. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like it when someone else does.” 

Edward turns back to look at the both of them, grinning. “That explains a lot.” 

Bella rolls her eyes. “As if you hadn’t figured it out.” 

Edward shrugs, as if to say ‘obviously, but I like having proof that I’m right’, and starts the car. 

Jake shifts off her lap and rests his head on top of hers. He closes his eyes, and the wolf in his head curls up in to a tight ball.

YES, it says, SLEEP NOW. REST.

Jake sleeps, then, knowing he’ll wake up between cool sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not used to writing long works and I write fairly slowly (for context: this was began the night after the previous work in this series was posted). I have fully rewritten this twice, and have scrapped at least 10k of scenes. I'm very glad it's done and fairly proud of the result. It would not have ever been finished, in this form or another, without the lovely e.g.h. She is a dedicated and wonderful beta reader who I love dearly.
> 
> If you have the time, I would love constructive criticism (or any sort of comment, really), and kudos are always much appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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